


The Game War

by FlyingCukes



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Aliens, M/M, Roommates, galactic battle, just read it, space, super low-key romance, uh.... that's about it, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-10 14:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7849330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingCukes/pseuds/FlyingCukes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When aliens plan to strike Earth, Dan Howell and his fellow gaming champions are recruited to save the world, but Dan's incompetent partner, Phil Lester, is certainly hindering his hopes at becoming a war hero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aliens and Video Games

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is my first story. Ever. I've been writing for years but I've never actually written a real plot. Please, read and enjoy.  
> Also, thanks to Phantastic Phour (On G+) for beta-ing

It was truly lucky that it had taken the aliens this long to develop tech and fly over to our solar system. Like us, aliens had trashed their planet, although they got to that point before us. Of course, since our planet already had proved it could sustain life, they planned to invade Earth. Upon study of humans, they decided that we were a threat, and therefore must be obliterated.   
Luckily, on the down low, world powers had been slowly stockpiling rockets and spacecrafts, and could mass produce enough space fighters to hold back the aliens. All they needed were some soldiers to man the crafts, but regular astronauts weren’t fit for the task. They could have assigned the pilots, but they needed more people who could quickly learn to fly and control a space fighter in the few months we had left to defend our people.  
New recruits were needed. People with fast reaction times, skill with control panels, bravery when battling anything, from the gross to the horrifying, to the unbelievably strange ships and creatures invading our galaxy. The world needed the greatest of the greatest, and the gamers just so happened to fit the bill.   
So the governments of the world banded together to contact gaming champions from far and wide, looking for anyone who was willing to put their projects on hold for a while, and train to fly the space fighters offensively to beat off the invaders.  
And that is where I come in, Daniel Howell, world champion at Mario Kart, and pretty high up there for Halo and several other games. I had been contacted by the British government, and asked to join their forces to defeat the incoming alien.  
And what do you think I am? Crazy? Of course I said yes, have you seen those amazing ships? I was going to train for a while, and sure, the training itself would be intense, but other than that, the government was going to pay for me to live a life of luxury for a year, then go do awesome things and win a war and tell my grand kids all about how their grandpa chased away the scary aliens!  
So I arrived at the training base (the location is top secret) prepared to start the coolest chapter of my life. Of course, the first person I met when I walked in the door had a sign in sheet, and asked my name.  
“I’m Dan Howell,” I replied confidently, although I panicked internally when she took more than a few seconds to find my name on the list. After a bit though, she finally saw it, and handed me a packet with a room key, a map, and a schedule. For some odd reason though, there was a second name on the packet, under mine. It said “Partner: Philip Lester”. Curious, I hadn't known we were going to be assigned partners. And who was this Philip Lester character? I was fairly certain I knew all the hotshots in the gaming world, and this name had never come up. I hoped he would be able to keep up with me. There is a reason I never play the team setting on games. I hate to have anyone holding me back.   
As I walked into my room, I paused briefly to marvel at the beauty surrounding me. It sure was a pleasant change compared to my low-income flat in the city. The training facility clearly put a lot of effort into making our living areas comfortable and luxurious. From where I was standing, frozen in awe in the doorway, I could see a living area, complete with bean bags, a couch, a huge flat-screen TV, and every gaming console known to man. Leading off the living area were two bedrooms, which appeared to have queen sized beds with huge, fluffy duvets on top. One room had a black and white theme, while the other was full of color, and since my roommate, whoever he may be, hadn’t shown up yet, I quickly set my stuff down, claiming the colorless room as my own.  
Checking my schedule, I saw that I still had a solid four hours before I needed to actually accomplish anything, so I sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV, and began to search through their collection of games. I found a variety of classic and modern games, ranging from Pong to GTA5. It was honestly one of the most impressive game collection I had ever seen, and when video games are your job, that is saying something.  
I was fully immersed in an intense game of solitaire (hey, who said I have to play “legit” video games all the time?), when I heard a key sliding into the lock. As the doorknob turned, I bolted up from my previously reclining position, and I watched another guy walk in and take in the grandeur of our room.  
The newcomer looked a few years older than me, and was actually an inch or two taller, surprisingly. He had black hair in fringe, basically mirroring mine, and entrancingly bright blue eyes. He stood with a definite slouch, one I knew well, the I’m-constantly-surrounded-by-shorter-people-and-I-don’t-want-to-be-intimidating slouch.  
After a few long seconds, my roommate entered the room where I was sitting, although he failed to notice me, as the couch was facing away from the door. I stood up to introduce myself, but I guess I didn’t think that through, because when the new guy turned and suddenly saw me, he emitted a sound most frequently heard by teenage girls meeting their favorite overrated boy-band.  
When my roommate recovered from the shock, he turned to me, and stuck out his hand. “Let’s just pretend that never happened, shall we? Anyways, my name is Phil Lester. I guess we’re going to be roomies. I hope you don’t mind my crippling lack of social abilities.”  
“I’m Dan, Dan Howell,” I said with a grin slowly breaking across my face. This Phil seemed to be more and more likable with every move he made. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope you don’t mind, but I already claimed the bedroom on the right.”  
Phil peered into the two bedrooms, as if checking to see that I didn’t take one that was significantly better, but he appeared to see that the two were essentially the same. “That’s fine. I’m more into colors than grey anyways.  
“You not a fan of the 50 shades of grey?” I asked with a smirk.  
“What? No, no, I mean…” he spluttered, then saw my barely contained laughter, “Oh, ha ha, very funny.”  
Phil and I talked for a while, as he put his stuff down, and settled in and I lay flopped on the very fancy mattress, listening to his voice dart around the room. “Oh yeah, I just graduated from college two years ago, but during my gap year between my bachelors and my masters I got into gaming and got pretty successful,” Phil said, putting his brightly colored wardrobe into the dresser. “I’ve been tournamenting for a while, but then I got that government email, and I couldn’t say no. I pulled my name from the tournaments and signed up.”  
A bit more friendly chit chat, then the conversation petered out and we were left in an awkward silence. But we came here because of video games, so why not play a few? I suggested this, but Phil was apparently incapable of assertively making a decision, so I decided a friendly game of Mario Kart would do fine. I’d go easy of course, not everyone can be as amazing as me, but maybe he would be a challenge. I hadn’t faced a worthy foe in a good long time.  
Yeah, no. Phil was not a worthy foe. I decimated him with my eyes closed. We were on the hardest level, yes, but that is no excuse for a gamer to come dead last.  
Trying very hard to keep my voice neutral I said, “Hey Phil, how about we play something else? Is there anything you’re really good at?”  
He lifted his head a bit, shaking it slightly. “No, I’m fine, let’s go do something else. We can play again later.”  
With an hour left until orientation, we decided to wander the halls, chatting as we went, and giving small, friendly nods to the many people we met along the way. That was the problem with having a whole bunch of pro-gamers get together: we were all so anti-social that no one ever initiated conversations. We all just passed each other, barely acknowledging each other’s existence.  
With about 10 minutes to spare, Phil and I found a huge auditorium-like room with rows and rows of chairs. A few people were scattered throughout the first couple rows, but there seemed to be assigned seats. Phil and I each picked a row, and we scanned until we found our names, conveniently located next to each other.  
We sat down in the uncomfortable fold-down chairs, and waited, looking anxiously around at people, wanting someone to say something and break the terrible silence, yet unwilling to be the one who initiates the conversation. The chairs around us slowly filled up, until the room was filled with people, mainly young guys, but some girls and older people. I was relieved to see that there weren’t going to be any little kids going into battle with us. It seemed that all recruits were at least done with high school.  
Thankfully, we were all saved from our social incompetence, as the lights in the auditorium house dimmed, and a sharply dressed woman stepped out on stage.  
She explained to us the basic rules of the training facility: basically, be appropriate, don’t discuss anything about this with anyone outside the base. She then explained the roommate situation. Everyone was paired up with partners of complimenting ability, and we would room together, train together, and learn to work together in order to prepare ourselves for cohabiting a tiny spaceship for the duration of the battle.  
I looked over at Phil with an approving nod. I may barely know the guy, but if I had to deal with someone for several consecutive months, I was glad it was someone who didn’t hate me, and was actually a pretty cool dude. And the fact that he was pretty darn attractive was certainly a plus.


	2. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil begin to train for the big battle, but they encounter some huge obstacles right at the beginning.

The very next day, training started. We were given a lecture on how the controls worked by the director of the program, Leslie Stevens. Honestly, I started to nod off after about 15 minutes. I’m a gamer, I understand consoles and buttons and stuff. I noticed that Phil was watching the entire time with a look of extreme concentration. It almost seemed like he... wasn’t used to gaming controls?  
When she finally finished talking, we were ushered out to try a flight simulator. It seemed that the plan was for one team member to fly the space fighter, while the other would be in charge of navigation and maintenance during takeoff, and then, in the actual battle, the second person would man the weapons. For this first simulation, I was put in charge of flying.  
The simulation was absolutely incredible. I can’t imagine how much effort went into the realism of the screens, and the motion and the controls. As soon as I sat down in the pilot’s seat, I felt at ease among the buttons, joysticks, and circuitry. Phil did not seem to be quite as comfortable, but I assumed that was due to his lack of experience or something. After all, not everyone is born with a game boy under their thumbs. Our first goal was to fly to the moon and defeat some programmed warriors there.  
Flying the craft was a piece of cake; the controls were self-explanatory and easy to use, so I could make the ship do loop-de-loops if I so desired. Everything was instinctual, and I felt like a bird that had left captivity and was given its first chance to take to the sky and go wherever it wanted. Each gentle tap to the joystick turned the nose of the ship the tiniest bit, and I could stop and start in as much time as it took to bring my finger to the button. The only problem: Phil. He could read the map well enough, but when the right engine started to fail on the way up, as it was programmed to do, Phil floundered around, and took a solid half an hour to get it back to working condition. Then, in battle, he had no clue how to aim, let alone rapid-fire or use the specialized weapons the ship was equipped with. He just sat at the console, biting his lips, barely blinking as he tried to figure everything out. I think a five year old could have done a better job of it all.  
Even with Phil’s ineptitude, I managed to dodge the vast majority of the artillery fired at us, and we had almost breached the enemy’s base when a super-speed missile came and nailed our ship. Dejected, I unstrapped my seatbelt and made a move to stand up. Phil followed me, grabbing my shoulder and babbling excuses about how sorry he was that he was such a failure. I shook him off, trying to hide my disappointment. I was upset, but he had clearly been trying his hardest, but he just wasn’t cut out for working the weaponry. Maybe he would do better on flying.  
Well, a few hours later, I found out that Phil was better at flying, but just barely. It was almost impossible to shoot accurately with the insane turbulence. We failed again, but much faster this time. It seemed dodging without attacking worked better for us than attacking but not dodging.  
Once again we walked out of the aircraft, but this time, Phil was silent. He shrunk into his seat, eyes downcast. It seemed that he had finally figured out that making up excuses was not going to appease me. He tried to catch my eye a couple times, but there was no way I was going to fall prey to those big blue puppy-dog eyes. I needed to be professional, and disciplined –I’m in the military after all,- and I knew if I saw those baby blues, I would immediately get lost in all those beautiful colors, so I ignored him.  
At lunch, Phil decided to ditch me and hang out with some other gamers he found that were closer to his own age. Taking this opportunity, I snuck out of the dining room to talk to someone who could tell me what’s going on. This place was very thorough when selecting people; surely they wouldn’t choose someone with absolutely no skill when it came to controls and whatnot. In addition, what kind of gaming could he possibly do where he wasn’t used to shooting or driving?  
“He’s a world renowned dance dance revolution player,” said Ms. Stevens, upon questioning. “He may not be the best flyer, but we have done meticulous research on all of you, and we know that in the three months we have, Phil will learn to fly a space fighter, and he has other rarer skills that will be essential in battle. It may seem like we made a mistake, but you and Phil will make the perfect team, provided you both work very hard. Together.”  
I’ll admit, I kind of doubted Leslie’s Dumbledore-esque words, but I was willing to give Phil another chance. It was pretty clear I couldn’t ditch him, so why not put in the effort to make his the best he could be?  
*Cue cheesy training montage music*  
Phil and I played Mario Kart every day, for practice of course, and worked at the simulation whenever we could. I showed him how to perfectly position the jets for stopping mid air and how to react to a hit so that we don’t flip off into space. He figured out how to not just use the controls, but how to feel the balance and turns. After a while, we put on an obstacle course simulation.  
The opening was simple, just flying through a large hoop, but it quickly turned to weaving between magic hovering barrels, the spaces getting progressively smaller and smaller. Then Phil had to keep the craft flying straight on a line that curved and looped wildly. For a grand finish, Phil had to aim the ship into a perfect bull’s eye on a simulated planet that looked suspiciously like Venus.  
It took about 30 tries, but eventually Phil managed to get it perfect. With a triumphant shout, he jumped out of his seat and started dancing around wildly. I hopped up as well and grabbed his hands. We bounced around the little capsule cheering wildly. We hugged and jumped and giggled, and I think I even saw an inkling of a tear in Phil’s eyes.  
Then, completely on a whim, I grabbed him tight and latched my lips on to his. As soon as our lips touched, I regretted my decision. What if he didn’t like me? What if things got awkward? What if he freaked out and quit the program? We had worked so hard to quit now, but then I felt Phil kiss me back, and I sank into him, relieved and excited.  
Essentially falling into him was a mistake though. I was pretty skinny, but I was also 6’3”. My weight flopping onto Phil’s body knocked him onto the floor, yet our lips stayed together, even as our limbs tangled together on the ground. Eventually we broke the kiss to take a breath. We stared at each other, gasping for air, absolutely giddy from excitement.  
“Did that just happen?” Asked Phil.  
“I think it did,” I replied unsteadily.  
“So, are we…?”  
“If you want to be.”  
“...I think I do.”  
With that, we left the simulation capsule, and quickly walked back to our room, cheeks red and smiles beaming.  
Over the next month, Phil continued to improve and excel, and I actually read the ship manual so I could deal with whatever problems there might be on the way up. We were soon acing every simulation, even the ones designed to be significantly harder than anything we could ever see in space. And then there was that one special afternoon.  
Once again, we were playing Mario Kart; it had become part of our routine to get in a few rounds before bed every night. All done in the name of training of course, not for our own enjoyment or anything. Any way, I had been beating him, as usual, so we decided to play one last round. Honestly, I was surprised by how good-willed Phil was about the whole thing. I beat him every night, even when I had a disadvantage of some sort, but he kept playing.   
Anyways, by some miracle, Phil managed to get ahead, hitting me with a blue shell seconds before the finish line. He let out a whoop while I stared at the screen in disbelief. After weeks and weeks of constant defeat, Phil finally beat the master, and at that moment, I knew that he was ready. I jumped up as well, getting over my defeat to join in his excitement. We danced around the room shouting and laughing until our neighbors banged on the door, asking us to quiet down.   
That night, I slept in under a bright colored blanket, rather than my usual monochromatic duvet. It was a wonderful feeling, having a warm back pressed up against mine, one I'd never felt before, and for the first time in a long time, I fell asleep in seconds, Lulled into sweet nothingness by the warmth radiating from Phil’s back.   
Finally, the big day arrived. We had been training hard for three long months, and the scientists said the aliens were almost at Earth. We were ready.  
Not only that, but Phil and I were getting closer and closer as the deadline drew near. We were most frequently seen hand in hand, as close as we could be. Everywhere we went it was Phil and Dan, Dan and Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, chapter two, how'd you like it? I know everything is moving a bit fast, and there isn't a ton of fluff, but I think it'll get better in a chapter or two. Tell me what you think!


	3. The Fighting Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair are ready for battle, and just in time. The space ships launch, but it turns out the battle might not be as easy as they thought.

Training was over, and all us fighters were assembled in the same auditorium that we first met up in. In an insane burst of déjà vu, Ms. Stevens stepped up to the stage again, but this time her speech was brief, and everybody hung on to every word.  
“Congratulations, gamers, you have all passed training and are ready to go out into the real battle. You will find your ships in a lot outside, organized like the diagram on the projector. Go out there, be strong, and protect the world!”  
On the chart, we could see our ship was on the far edge of the lot.  
“Why is our ship so far away?” whined Phil, “And why is your name listed first?”  
“My name is first because it’s in alphabetic order you spork!”  
“Oh, oh yeah, I guess that makes sense, but still. It isn’t fair.”  
We walked into the lot, and then alllllllll the way across it, then saw a dark green ship with our names written all over it, literally. It said Dan Howell and Phil Lester in neon blue. It was beautiful, everything I expected and more, with a sheer hull, giant rocket thrusters, and massive guns jutting out of the sides.  
When we stepped in, we found everything to be organized exactly like the simulator ship, except with plush twisty chairs, rather than the uncomfortable wood ones we had been dealing with. Simply put, the ship was perfect, and I just couldn’t wait to fly her.  
A voice crackled over the speakers, telling us to drive over to our launching point, so Phil sat down at the pilot’s seat, cracked his knuckles and started the craft. She ran so smoothly, I wouldn’t have been able to tell she was on if it weren’t for the gentle hum of the engine.  
My seat was so cushy I just sank right into it, as I sat down and watched the map to the battlefield load. I had done the simulations enough times that Phil and I both knew exactly where we were going, but it was nice to know the map was there.  
To be honest, reality had yet to sink in. I knew what we were doing, and I understood the implications; that if we failed, we would die and the world would be overrun by aliens, but it hadn’t really set in. It just felt like this battle was a big game we were playing for the past three months, and now it was time to meet the final boss. I was excited; my stomach was churning, but it hadn’t really sunk in what we were about to do.  
Countdown rang loudly through the ship in that pre-recorded female voice. “Take off in 10....9….” I buckled my seatbelt. “…8…7…” I grabbed my shoulder straps as the ship started vibrating. “…6….5…4…” I set my face in what I hoped looked brave as anxiety started to take over. “…3…2…” The ship was really shaking! “…1”! The force of take off hit me, and I felt like my face was peeling off my skin. After mere seconds though, I became accustomed to the constant pressure, and actually started to relax into my seat. This was a peculiar sensation though. Gaming never had physical effects, other than sore thumbs.  
I looked over at Phil, to see how he was handling everything. After all, he was the one flying this thing, but it seemed that nervousness wouldn’t be an issue. Phil was handling the controls with practiced ease, calmly checking gauges and slightly adjusting the joystick. As though he felt my gaze, he turned toward me.“Can you double check that we’re on the right route?” No surprise, his voice was completely composed as though this was just another one of those simulations.  
“Oh, oh yeah, sure, yeah, we’re good.” My voice on the other hand was quivering from nerves. You know what I had said about the imminent battle not sinking in? Yeah, it was starting to sink in now, and I was absolutely terrified.  
“Dan, are you doing okay?” asked Phil with a look of concern.  
I wasn’t completely sure how to respond to that. I was really worried as the reality set in, but I could make it through the battle, I mean, how hard could it be? I played video games all the time, but this, this was different. “I-I think I’ll be fine.”  
“Okay,” Phil said gently, “just keep me updated, I can turn this back any time.”  
With those words, I calmed down immensely. I knew I could never bring myself to ask him to turn around, that would be the equivalent of going AWOL. I could never let the world down. And the whole honor aspect- quitting before the battle even started- would be the absolute epitome of embarrassment; I would never live it down. So no, I wouldn’t ask Phil to turn around, but it was really comforting to be reminded that that was an option.  
I continued to check that we were on the right track, but Phil was doing an excellent job staying on course by himself. Thankfully, nothing went wrong, which was to be expected: these ships were built perfectly, so I didn’t have to do anything other than check a map.  
Despite having nothing actually helpful to do, I was hyper-focused on the screens in front of me, when suddenly Phil’s voice shook me out of my reverie. “We’ll be there in 10 minutes, so you should get the guns ready.”  
By instinct, and instinct alone, I started flipping switches to prep the basic guns, just like I did every time we went through the simulation: start with the little guns to get the enemies comfortable, then bring out the big ones later when the weaklings had been knocked out. Save the big guns for the big enemies, you know?  
Then, out of the view port, I caught a glimpse of the enemy ships, and they were like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Color seemed to not be a concept to the aliens, and their ships were blobs of clashing shades swirled and blobbed with no rhyme or reason. The shapes were irregular, not cubic, but not spherical, or ovular, or anything else we have names for; they looked like a young child had been given clay, in every color of the rainbow, and then mushed them together in about ten seconds. I couldn’t figure out the benefits of the combinations of hard corners and round surfaces, from a physics standpoint, but the aliens were clearly more advanced, so obviously these designs had a lot of thought put into them. I hoped people back at home were taking notes on their ships and weapons and whatnot. These aliens could be an amazing learning tool.  
Or, at least, that’s what I was thinking until they started shooting at us. Their bullets were not as explosively devastating as they could have been, nothing that would destroy the world or anything, but they were still terrifying. There is a huge difference between shooting pixels on a screen and shooting real-life ships in the middle of outer space. It was time for me to start doing my shooting magic, so I aimed and pressed the big red button. There was a bit of a kick when the bullets left the gun, something the simulations hadn’t prepared me for, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I looked through the viewport, and saw the bullets fly. Upon impact, the ship certainly didn’t crumple like the average airplane or whatever, but there were definite dents left behind. If their ships were that strong, I was definitely glad that our ships were made of super-reinforced metals, because their ammunition must have a super punch.  
And speak of the devil, as soon as I thought about that, one of their shots grazed the side of our ship, shaking the whole thing for a long three seconds. My hand was about to push the “fire” button again, but when I felt the whole ship rock, I hit panic mode, and I froze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's only one chapter left, and then the epilogue. Thank you to the 3 people who have left kudos, you are great people. I love you all. Have a nice day.  
> -Sofia


	4. The Battle Ends

It may have only taken three seconds for Phil to react and re-stabilize the space fighter, but those were the longest three seconds of my life. The moment that our plane shook, I realized that I could die. This wasn’t just some enemies on a screen, but they were real creatures with real weapons that could obliterate us.  
Fear overtook me, paralyzing my limbs. I couldn’t focus on anything except the bullets flying by. There was virtually nothing between us and the artillery hurtling straight toward us. And even if Phil somehow managed to dodge all the bullets, what was going to stop us from getting stuck out here or running out of food or oxygen?  
My breath sped up, my shoulders rising and falling rapidly as I tried to take in as much air as possible. Soon, I was hyperventilating, my head started to feel woozy, and I almost fell out of my chair. (Thank god for seatbelts!) Phil heard my audible gasps and turned to me with a look of concern.  
“Dan, what’s going on, what’s wrong?” He looked at me, trying to curl up into the fetal position on my chair. I tried to say that I was okay, but all I could get out was some kind of strangled cry. That didn’t really help my case.  
Cautiously keeping one hand on the steering joystick, Phil reached over and put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay Dan, I’m right here. It’s going to be okay.” He started rubbing gentle circles on my arm as tears streamed down my face. “Come on, breathe now, with me, in…2….3…out…2…3…4…5…”  
I tried to breathe like he said, but it came in short jerks, and let out in a long shaky stream interrupted by little gasps. Phil wasn’t deterred, and kept counting while skillfully avoiding the shrapnel flying through the air at nearly the speed of sound. I wasn’t exactly in a position to appreciate it, but Phil was doing the impossible: flying one of the most complicated vehicles in the world one handed in a freaking battlefield while keeping me calm.  
“Now, we can’t leave anymore, because if I turn the ship around, we will get hit, but I promise we will get through this, and you’ll be home before you know it.” At this point I was almost at a regular breathing pattern, although I was far from being able to say anything. “Now Dan, we need to fire some shots at the aliens, because the sooner we hit them enough, the sooner we can go home.”  
I shook my head frantically. I didn’t trust myself to hit anything yet. So Phil tried to do it for me, but he had only been the shooter guy once before, that first simulation try, and he had done absolutely terribly. So when Phil reached across and hit the fire button, I looked out the viewport and saw a round of bullets spinning off into orbit. Phil obviously also saw this, and pouted visibly.  
I couldn’t help but laugh weakly at how silly Phil looked. “You doof, you have to aim first.” That joke didn’t come out quite as I wanted it to, my voice was still wobbly and my throat tight, but it was enough to break the tension.   
Phil cracked a smile and said sheepishly, “Oh, I guess just pressing fire would have been a little bit too easy.”  
“No wonder you were so terrible on the simulation then,” I joked. And just like that, I was back in action. I wasn’t at the peak of fighting condition, but I could distract myself enough to send some bullets the alien’s way. With a careful eye, I adjusted the course of the guns, and finally brought my hand down on that big red button.  
Gleefully, I watched them run their course and once again dent the closest enemy ship. I couldn’t see where their engines were, so I couldn’t incapacitate them, but I noticed that after getting hit several times, the aliens cut their losses and backed their ships out of the herd, speeding up, and shooting the opposite direction so fast I almost couldn’t see it leave.  
After about an hour of exchanging fire, a voice on the radio said it was our time to take a break, so I left the guns for a while and went to the back to grab the snacks we had prepared. Phil backed us up, and the other ships formed together to protect us from any bullets. Phil couldn’t get up, but he could relax a bit, with the stream of fire significantly lower.  
I passed Phil a protein bar and some chocolate, not the most exciting snack, but exactly what we needed after the stress of battle. We sat in silence for a bit, just eating and enjoying the refreshing feeling of being relatively safe for a minute. Adrenaline had been pumping through our body, putting our senses on high alert, and for the 15 minutes of break we got, we were going to relax and enjoy it. But there were also some things that I needed to say.  
I would have been nervous, but we had been fighting for so long, I was basically out of nervousness, so I just jumped into it. “Thank you Phil, for what you said back there. I don’t think I would have been able to make it without you.”  
Phil turned eyes widening for a second from the suddenness of my words, but as I spoke, his face softened into a warm grin. “Of course, we’re a team. I know you would do the same for me any time.”  
He was right of course, but I couldn’t let him get away with being so lovey-dovey. “You sap,” I said, whacking his shoulder with the back of my hand.  
“Hey!” He exclaimed, then immediately went back to his sickeningly sweet self and said with a laugh, “You know you love me for it, though.”  
And once again he was right, so I got up and gave him a big bear hug. While keeping his eyes on the viewport, I felt Phil clamp his arms around me in return. I waited a couple seconds then went to withdraw, but Phil wouldn’t let go.  
“Uh, Phil, this isn’t exactly comfortable. I’m bent all weird because you’re sitting. Can I get up now?”  
“Nope. This is your punishment for calling me a sap. Say you’re sorry, and maybe I’ll let you out.”  
“Fine, I’m sorry for whacking you, can I get up now though?”  
“Now now,” Phil said mock-motherly, “We all know that wasn’t a sincere apology, but we have to get back out there, so I’ll let you out, just because I’m that nice.” Then, finally Phil let go, and I went back to my chair and strapped in.  
The battle kept on raging for several more hours, and Phil and I got only one more break, but finally most of the enemy ships had turned around and fled, and miraculously, almost all our ships were still in working condition. Only 3 had gotten hit enough that they had had to turn back. Somehow, Phil had managed to evade almost every bullet coming our way, so we had a few dents on the hull, but nothing too severe.  
I realized that I had managed to get through this whole thing without pulling out the big special guns, so I quickly switched from the basic guns to the specially equipped bomb-bullets. I loaded up a bullet, aimed at the closest remaining ship, and hit fire. The bomb almost seemed to fly in slow motion, a big blob of neon green against the black of space. Upon hitting the enemy ship, the bomb detonated, leaving a massive dent across the entire front of the craft. Like the rest, it turned tail and fled, so that the human forces were all that were left.  
With a whoop, I tried to jump out of my chair and celebrate our victory, but I forgot about the seatbelt holding me in place, so I just kind of slammed my torso into a thick metal strap. Phil looked over at me groaning and cradling my arms against my chest to protect it from myself. Full out guffawing at my idiocy, he turned the ship around and headed back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the story is almost over now, just an epilogue left (it's really cute by the way) sorry I didn't upload this forever, not that anybody actually cares, but I'll y'all later.

**Author's Note:**

> COMMENT!! Even if you absolutely hated it, tell me what you hated so that I can make the rest better than what I've got. And if you like it, tell me that too. (Please?)


End file.
